


Presque Vu (At the Tip of the Tongue)

by partnerincrime



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Early Stage of Relationship, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Romance, Self-Reflection, naps
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-26
Updated: 2017-07-26
Packaged: 2018-12-07 03:54:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11615352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/partnerincrime/pseuds/partnerincrime
Summary: When Alec wakes up from his afternoon nap, he is both pleased and surprised to find Magnus there.So to wake up with Magnus' warm cheek resting on his bare shoulder, hair tickling his neck, and an arm looped over his torso is definitely a pleasant surprise. He revels in the feeling once more – the strong lines of Magnus' chest against his back and the hands splayed flat over his stomach that rise and fall in tandem as he breathes – it feels like belonging, safety, and love.





	Presque Vu (At the Tip of the Tongue)

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be some practice in writing emotions/feelings/prose, but it somehow devolved into _this_. 
> 
> I've never written anything like this (both the emotions and the smut), so apologies for any mistakes!
> 
> As always, thanks to [bumblebeesknees](http://archiveofourown.org/users/bumblebeesknees/pseuds/bumblebeesknees) for beta'ing and for constant reassurance that what I write isn't complete and utter garbage.

It's close to 3pm when Alec rouses awake from his nap, a soft, blurred light drifting through the heavy curtains and catching the planes of his face. His eyelids struggle to lift open, still heavy with sleep, as he contemplates whether to give in and just keep them closed – to succumb to the warmth enveloping him – and fall back asleep again. 

There's something just so comfortable about the position he's in that he may never want to get up. A cool, red silk sheet covers the lower half of his body, which contrasts the solid heat he feels at his back. Alec immediately recognizes this presence as _Magnus_. 

He draws in a long breath and can't help but quirk a small smile. 

Alec knows that Magnus is a not-so-secret critic of naps. Magnus just found them ineffective – he'd wake up feeling anxious and even more tired, complaining about how it left his makeup in a 'state' (Magnus' words, even though it really only takes a snap of his fingers to freshen everything up). 

This contrasts Alec, who absolutely _needs_ it, needs these thirty minutes of salvation to function as a living human being, especially after a particularly grueling morning at the Institute. 

But ultimately, Alec chalks it up to Magnus' workaholic tendencies and concedes to himself that Magnus just isn't the type of person who appreciates naps. Everything about Magnus is just go, go, go all the time that he would always want to busy himself with something – no matter how small – whether it be helping a young girl recover her missing cat or helping those 'pesky' shadowhunters that came knocking on his door in the middle of the night. 

"I'm in very high demand, my darling. As much as I would like to spend the afternoon lying in bed with you," his hands slide down Alec's sides to grasp firmly at his waist, "I really must be going. I have three meetings that should end around 6 – unfortunately, the last one of those meetings is with the Clave, and we know how long those stodgy old bigots can drone on for." He had pressed a chaste kiss to Alec's mouth (Alec can still recall the taste of Magnus' cherry chapstick), right before stepping through a portal. 

So to wake up with Magnus' warm cheek resting on his bare shoulder, hair tickling his neck, and an arm looped over his torso is definitely a welcome surprise. He revels in the feeling– the strong lines of Magnus' chest against his back and the hands splayed flat over his stomach that rise and fall in tandem as he breathes – it feels like belonging, safety, and _love_. 

Alec still can't believe how much his life has changed in such a short span of time. How it was only a couple of months ago that he almost committed himself to living a lie – blindly following Clave orders, locked into a loveless marriage, and to have never have lived as himself. 

To never be truly happy. 

And now… and now he has _everything_. Never in his wildest dreams would he have imagined that sabotaging his own wedding would bring him here. That he would end up as the head of the New York Institute – a leader of one of the most traditional and backwards organizations in the world – while somehow calling this opulent Brooklyn loft his home, where he falls into a bed of a thousand thread count silk sheets and wakes up in the arms of the man who looks at him with starlight in his eyes. 

To have both the job he wants and the man he loves.

Happiness blooms within him, swelling in his chest. 

At this point, Alec is now fully awake. He shifts under Magnus' arm to so he can face him instead – face this irresistible man who steals Alec's breath every time he enters the room – _his_ man, Alec corrects himself, and the sight that greets him makes his heart skip a beat.

There's a crack through the curtains that allows the window to let in the light of the afternoon sun, which shines brightly behind Magnus leaving him outlined in a halo of ethereal sunlight. The first thought that pops into Alec's mind is that Magnus looks like he's been plated in gold, the way his skin is marbled by the afternoon light, catching in each dip and divot of his chest. Magnus may as well be magic incarnate the way he glows, filled to the brim of this indescribable, wondrous energy that is on the cusp of spilling out of his human form. 

It's unreal, a thing of fantasy, Alec thinks, but he ultimately knows that he's awake because he is nowhere near creative enough to think up someone as complex and compelling as Magnus. 

Alec can see the Manhattan skyline behind the silhouette of Magnus' arm, littered with skyscrapers that leave small pockets of blue sky between glittering towers of metal and glass. Despite the chaos of Brooklyn zooming beneath them, Alec is filled with this quiet serenity as he drinks in the sight of Magnus, bare-faced and worry-free. There is an inner calm that settles within as he latches on to the sound of Magnus' steady breaths, in and out, the sounds of car honks and screeching tires fading to the background of his mind. 

Magnus _always_ looks good with makeup – the dark eyeliner intensifies his eyes and the contour further accentuates his sharp features – but Magnus without makeup is a whole different feeling altogether. Everything is just that much softer, this kindness and youthfulness brought to the forefront of Magnus' face, which he usually uses the makeup to intentionally hide. Alec feels privileged to see this side of Magnus – both unguarded and vulnerable – that Magnus is comfortable enough with him to let his walls come down. 

He admits to himself (without shame) that he could stare at Magnus all day so he can commit every single minute detail of his stunning face to memory. His tanned skin, flawless and smooth akin to aged leather. His long eyelashes, separated so that Alec can almost count each strand, still holding its curl from the morning. His bowed upper lip, that rests softly across the lower in a delicate caress, pouty and full. How all these pieces come together to create the masterpiece of what is Magnus Bane. 

Alec just stares, steadfast and unwavering, breathing deep, the air in the room that much cleaner, _sweeter_ now that Magnus is here.

Magnus' voice, fuzzy with sleep, suddenly pipes up. 

"Are you watching me sleep, Alexander? You know you can do more than just look."

Alec jolts, startled. Magnus' eyes flutter awake and they are smiling at him, twinkling with amusement. 

It baffles Alec how Magnus always looks surprisingly put-together when he wakes up. As the sunlight then catches in Magnus' eyes, they almost appear like burning embers glittering in rings of amber fire. They reach out with warmth and welcome, searching through the depths of Alec's soul to find the best parts of him and bring them into the light. 

Words escape him. 

"I love you," is all Alec can blurt out, and he is overcome with the need to reach out and physically feel that Magnus is really there, reassure himself that this magical, beautiful creature – the high warlock of Brooklyn – is lying next to him, his to love, to hold, and to cherish. 

Magnus eyes soften almost immediately. "I love you too, Alexander. Now and always." He can sense that Alec needs something from him, and he instinctually reaches out to lay a soothing hand on his cheek. "Is everything okay, my love?"

Alec has always struggled to find the right words to say, unlike Magnus, who can recite Shakespeare in his sleep and, on a regular basis, can spin metaphors about how handsome, noble, graceful, loving (the list goes on) Alec is. And it also doesn't help that every time Magnus says "I love you", Alec feels like something has found itself into the back of his throat, preventing him from saying what he wants to say. 

_What could I ever say to you to express how much you mean to me? That when I look at you, all I can feel is appreciation and respect and love? That when I feel you, all logical thought escapes me? That you are the love of life?_

"I –" Alec swallows and tries again, "– I love you, Magnus."

Alec is mentally kicking himself. He's always been bad with words, why try now when he knows that there is only one surefire method he can rely on to fully communicate what he means ( _what he feels_ ). It’s the only way he knows how. 

He takes Magnus' face in his hands and leans in to kiss him. 

It's almost a hesitant press of the lips at first, tentative and gentle, as if testing the waters. Alec isn't used to setting the pace since sex isn't exactly his forte (unlike Magnus, who is so comfortable in his own skin and knows exactly what to do to orchestrate Alec's release). However, when he can feel Magnus go pliant beneath him, Alec's confidence builds and his kiss grows more firm, more demanding, that he nips at Magnus' lower lip, as if asking for permission to enter the heat of his mouth. 

Magnus easily complies, opening his mouth wider to eagerly accept everything that Alec can give. It tastes like trust and acceptance – it’s Magnus saying, in their soundless language of touch, _I have laid my heart at your feet, and I know you will do everything in your power to protect it_. As they slot together, Alec is amazed at how this always feels so _right_ , that they always fit so seamlessly like two pieces of a puzzle that have finally found their perfect match. 

They take their time with the kiss – long, drawn-out, and slow – until Alec licks into Magnus' mouth. Magnus lets out a needy sound, and Alec has to _give in_ , swept away in the swirling current of their ministrations. Their movements start getting more fervent – tongues sliding and hands moving everywhere – that Alec has to breathe through his nose given the increased intensity, only to inhale a cloud of Magnus' scent – the warm, spicy scent of jasmine and sandalwood. 

Magnus has invaded every one of his senses. Alec has to pull away, overwhelmed by it all. 

"What did I do to deserve you?" he whispers. He looks at Magnus and his heart feels like it's leaping out of his chest, when he sees Magnus' swollen lips and burning eyes. 

"I could be asking the same."

Alec doesn't believe that for a second. He wants to take Magnus by the shoulders and shake him, tell him that _no_ , that he is plain, old Alec Lightwood, one of thousands of shadowhunters that Magnus will meet in his lifetime, when in reality, Magnus is the irreplaceable one – the only man that Alec will ever meet who takes him on dates to Tokyo and Paris, who teaches him how to slow dance under the moonlight, and the only one who will ever capture his heart. 

It's in worship as he kisses down Magnus' neck, following the lean curve of the tendon, into the hollow between his collarbones. He ghosts his breath back up to lay small kisses under Magnus' jaw, Magnus' stubble rubbing against the bridge of his nose, and breathes deeply as he follows the elegant curve back down. His hands can't help but wrap over Magnus' shoulders – Magnus feels so solid beneath his fingers, a feeling akin to relief fills him, knowing that Magnus is, in the flesh, _really there_. 

He slides down, continuing his trail of kisses down from Magnus' chest to his stomach, following the clean line of muscle that runs down his body. Once he reaches Magnus' centre, he places both his palms on Magnus' abs to radiate outwards, tracing along the bones of Magnus' ribs until his fingers are grasping at his sides. He places a small kiss there, before he then slides his hands back down, following the V of his hips until he reaches his underwear. 

There's a languid sensuality to Magnus' movements that Alec finds incredibly beautiful (and it feels a hundred times more indulgent against the red silk) – how his back arches to chase Alec's mouth, and how each individual muscle tense up under Alec's lips, as if he's triggering a chain of reactions under Magnus' skin. It feels like an intimate dance, in which Alec leads and Magnus responds, and Alec really can't believe his luck that the angel sent him the most perfect partner to tango with for rest of his life. 

He finally reaches the end of his path, positioning himself so he's in between Magnus' bent legs and his face is aligned with Magnus' cock, straining to be released from the confines of Magnus' silk briefs. He meets Magnus’ eyes, pausing only for a second, before leaning in and mouthing Magnus through the fabric.

Magnus' hips immediately jump off the bed as he yells, " _Alexander!_ " with such intensity that his eyes turn golden and his voice reverberates across the room. A ripple of magic follows in echo, which causes the curtains to ruffle and the door to slam close. Alec just keeps going, tracing the outline of Magnus' arousal through his underwear as Magnus scrabbles to grab at Alec's hair, desperate for something to ground him. 

Alec can only think that the whimpering from Magnus sounds like he's _begging_ – and it drives Alec to move because Alec always wants to give Magnus everything he wants and more. 

Alec grasps at Magnus' hips and pushes him back to towards the bed. "Let me take care of you, Magnus, let me…" he falters when he realizes his voice is throaty and half-an-octave too deep, as if he had just swallowed a handful of gravel. 

_Let me show you how much you mean to me._

The words just don't come out.

Alec is determined though – to _show_ Magnus what he wants to say. He wraps an arm around each of Magnus' thighs, like braces of lean muscle, to keep Magnus pinned to the mattress. Alec knows that Magnus could easily break out of his grasp, but he seems to understand Alec's intentions – what Alec wants, and _needs_ to do – so he leans back on his forearms, watching Alec intently through hooded eyes. 

Alec then pulls down Magnus' underwear with his teeth (he thinks Magnus likes that, when he hears a low moan in pained anticipation), his cock catching in the waistband, tantalizingly slow, before springing free. Alec's heartbeat is thudding in his ears – he's so incredibly nervous, he's _never_ done anything like this before – as he nuzzles the soft skin with his cheek, glancing up to catch Magnus' gaze again, as if verifying each action he takes is the right one.

When Alec meets Magnus' eyes, he sees Magnus is staring at him with such fervour, he feels like he may catch fire. 

There's something about Magnus' expression that is indescribable – it’s a mix of awe and disbelief, like Magnus thinks that he's in a dream from which he never wants to wake. Magnus' warlock mark has broken through the glamour, his eyes shining, iridescent and burning, like pieces of golden tourmaline scattering the light. 

It's rare for Magnus to let go of the glamour that keeps his true eyes hidden. While Magnus himself tells everyone that it's because he doesn't want to make others uncomfortable, Alec feels that there is a part of it that may be due to Magnus' own insecurities – memories spanning 400 years, still raw and fresh. But knowing that Magnus comfortable enough around him to be vulnerable with spurs him on, giving him that extra push of courage he needs to expose himself to let Magnus know that he would do _anything_ for him – from suffering the biting pain of the agony rune to forcing his way through the burning gates of Edom. 

So Alec grasps at Magnus' cock, his long fingers curling over the base, as he leans in to drag the flat of his tongue up Magnus' length. Magnus lets out an obscene moan as Alec doubles back, swiping over each vein and bump with his tongue with such meticulous attention, it's as if he were committing each detail to memory. He takes his sweet time sucking lightly on the crown and swirling over the sensitive slit, the air heavy and filled with breathy little sounds. It feels likes minutes before Alec is in desperate need for breath and has to pull off. 

Magnus is babbling by the time Alec has finished his tour. 

"Alexander, you are the _biggest_ tease... Let me go, my darling, let me fuck your sweet mouth–" Magnus has always been extremely vocal about what he wants and Alec likes that – he likes knowing exactly what Magnus wants and needs to bring him to his climax. But he ignores Magnus' request this time, going in again, keeping his arms wrapped tightly around Magnus' thighs to plant him to the bed. All Alec can think about is making sure that Magnus understands, without a shadow of a doubt, the intensity of what Alec feels for him – how it builds and consumes him, overflows and overwhelms him _every single time_ , like a furious tide crashing along the shore, wiping out everything in its path. 

When Magnus is a writhing mess (there are blunt half-moons embedded in Alec's shoulders from Magnus’ nails and Magnus is pleading _please, please, please_ ), Alec finally gives in, and takes him fully into his mouth. 

A _scream_ tears from Magnus' throat, something out in a language that Alec can't understand. It's so loud, he wouldn't be surprised if everyone next block over can hear it echoing through the streets. 

Alec almost chokes when Magnus hits the back of his throat, but he doesn’t care. The only goal in Alec's mind is how to make Magnus feel good, to show him how he makes him feel. He chases it with such a singular focus, as he concentrates on bobbing his mouth, working his tongue, and watching his teeth. Alec himself is painfully hard, the silk sheets providing absolutely no friction or heat, but his mind is chanting _Magnus_ over and over, and it reminds him that this is for _Magnus_ , not for him. 

It's almost difficult to constrain Magnus, whose hips are stuttering, trying so desperately to escape Alec's firm hold. When Alec swallows to rid of the saliva pooling in his mouth, Magnus bucks wildly (Alec tenses to prevent himself from being lifted off the bed as well) – he hears somewhere above him something that sounds distinctly like "Lilith, you are a _dream_ ," and feels a particularly sharp tug in his hair. He lets out a gasp when he feels a jolt of magic escape from Magnus' fingers racing through his body, like a static shock that makes him shiver and his toes curl, humming against Magnus' cock at the sensation. 

The vibration is what finally sends Magnus over the edge, as he moans out in warning, "Alexander, I'm coming – yes, yes, _yes_." 

Fingers dig into his scalp and actually thrust him down further onto Magnus' cock, Alec opening his throat in anticipation. Once again, he's assaulted with everything that is Magnus – the heaving breaths of Magnus over him, the bitter taste of Magnus that hits tongue, and the warmth of Magnus' magic that crashes into his body. This time, when the magic hits him, it immediately triggers his own orgasm – but he ignores it to focus on keeping everything tight and slick for Magnus, as he slowly works both his hand and mouth in tandem to coax out the remnants of Magnus' release. 

It's only when he feels a gentle caress across his jaw does Alec stop. He looks up to see Magnus, who is sitting up, eyes shining with something akin to adoration and reverence. 

There's a warm glow of happiness around him, a content smile across his face. 

Swiping at Alec's brow with his thumb, Magnus whispers to him, "Thank you my darling, that was perfect. _You're_ perfect." 

Alec has to frown at that ( _Magnus doesn't get it_ ), but Magnus places a finger on his lips and says, "Don't you dare disagree, it's the truth."

"Magnus –"

"Please, let me finish my love." He steels himself with a long breath, then continues, "The feelings that overwhelm you – I feel that way about you too. In all my years, in all the lives that I have lived, I have never felt a love this strongly before, one that so all-consuming, that it feels like fate. And know that… know that I love you, my darling Alexander, with every fiber of my being, so deep down that I can feel it in my bones. That when I think about you, everything races to _here_ ," he points to his chest, "and my magic –" 

And then Magnus falters. He falls uncharacteristically silent and refuses to look Alec in the eye, focusing his attention on a nondescript spot on the bed. "When I think about you, I…" Magnus' chest visibly heaves, and it seems like Magnus physically deflates.

Alec can't bear to see Magnus like this. He immediately brings himself to kneel in front of Magnus, taking his face into his hands. "Magnus, hey, you can look at me."

Magnus looks up after what feels like a minute, his golden eyes stare intently back at Alec, his cat-like pupils dilated and glassy. There is such a vulnerability there, that Alec can feel his own gaze soften, as Magnus leans in to kiss him. 

It's a whisper of a kiss, feeling more like of a gentle press of lips, but it lingers just long enough that it feels like a plea – an ask for unconditional acceptance and trust. And Alec stays still, there for Magnus, for as long as he needs him to be. There's no heat behind it, just this aching tenderness, so soft and sweet, that it wraps around Alec's chest like a blanket and squeezes gently. It says to him in hushed tones, " _I love you, I love you, I love you – you are the love of my life._ "

And as they break away, Alec finally gets it. 

He must be smiling because Magnus says, "Is this what you do during all your naps, Alexander? I clearly have been missing out."

Alec tugs at Magnus' hand to get up, towards the direction of the shower, as he says, "Why don't you try and make it for tomorrow to find out?"


End file.
